


The New Kid

by fictive_frolic



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Multi, age gap, kinda slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic
Summary: Bruce has a crush on Ace, the girl who works in the lab across the hall. And has no idea how to go about telling her.
Relationships: Avengers Team/Reader, Bruce Banner/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [嘿，新来的](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768566) by [qingci2333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qingci2333/pseuds/qingci2333)
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [嘿，新来的](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768566) by [qingci2333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qingci2333/pseuds/qingci2333)



“Ace!” Steve yelled, “Stay down!”

The comm-link in your ear crackles, shocking the delicate skin as his voice sends your head to pounding. “Can’t do it, Cap,” you tell him, “I gotta take this son of a bitch apart, or none of us is getting out of here.”

“Stark!” Steve yells, starting your direction, “What do you know?”

“Not much,” Tony said, “Really not much... Ace, you’re bleedin’ out, kid. Hang on. I’m comin’ to you.”

After that, all the comms go silent. They can hear the clatter of tools and muffled swearing as you desperately try to disable the device on the table in front of you. You had fought so hard to get here. You had so much left to do. And you’d be damned if a couple bullet wounds were gonna stop you from doing it. 

By the time Tony bursts into the room, you’re lying in a puddle of blood. Mostly your own with bloody pieces of electronics scattered all over the floor. The timer clock was frozen at three seconds, and your chest was barely moving. “Fuck!” Tony yelled, “I need medical. Now!”

When your eyes flutter open, and you try to speak, he grabs your hand and holds you still gently. “Easy, Ace,” he soothed, “They’re comin’ you just gotta hold it together. Traeger’s waitin’ on you at home.”

That makes you smile just a little “T-t-take-”

“I swear to god if you tell me to take care of that monster, I’m gonna fire you, you hear me!” he threatens. Anything to keep you paying attention. Awake. With him. Just a little longer. He could hear medical in the hall. He just needed you to stay with him. Because he couldn’t lose his lab buddy. He couldn’t deal with Traeger looking at him like he was a murderer. 

You had to make it home. You had to. Bruce would never forgive him. Hell. No one would forgive him. But as he watches medical load you up, ready to transport you to the nearest hellicarrier and all the blood and bandages you could ever need, it feels eerie. 

It feels like the last time, and he blinks back tears. Maybe he’s too old. Perhaps it’s Karma. Maybe... Maybe he’s just been watching too many dramas. But, as he takes a shaky breath, it hurts. 

Another bad call. Another broken rookie... Well. No. You weren’t a rookie. Not anymore. But that didn’t matter. 

To Tony, you were forever going to be a fresh-faced kid. With freckles and boundless enthusiasm. He’d scooped you up out of an underground garage. A chop shop. And given you a playground. Because he saw something. Nimble hands and big bright eyes. You moved on instinct. Curiosity was your one true faith. Science was the only thing that kept you moving forward. He saw pieces of himself in you. Pieces of himself before all the darkness and death had had time to corrode him. To eat away portions and leave him a hollow shell.

And he wanted, desperately to save you. To save you like no one had ever bothered to save him.

__________

Bruce tried not to pace. He tried not to worry. But, it was always nerve-wracking. Any time you had to suit up. Any time you got that set in your jaw. The bit in your teeth that said no matter what, you were gonna have your way. 

He looked to the bed in the corner. Hunter green and coated in fur. And it’s occupant. Some giant mutt you scooped out of a dumpster as a baby. Left for dead. His little body about to just give up. He was waiting too. Traeger. Or, Bone head, or Captain Crunch... Any of the names you shouted at him when he was causing trouble, had his head laid on his paws. The massive dog was calm but, waiting. Waiting for the Go words. The words that meant his human was back and that he could get head pats and cuddles. And maybe treats if he were very pathetic. 

And Bruce was grateful for the company. Happy to have someone to talk at in the endless hours of waiting. And trying not to look at your work table with pieces strewn about. And your toolbox vomiting it’s contents over several counters. He had no idea how you could work like that. But in the quiet of the lab, without being able to look across the hall and see you. In your groove. Listening to whatever god forsake bubble gum punk music you claimed helped you focus, it all seemed too big. Too empty.

The dog made a soft dejected noise and Bruce smiled a little, “They’re coming back,” he said, “She’s gotta. She owes me money. I got Thor to put on the wig.”

Traeger’s tail swished on the floor and Bruce smiled a little. He’d swear that dog knew EXACTLY what was being said. “When she gets back,” he says, “You gotta help me out, Buddy.”

Traeger lifted his head, listening attentively and Bruce took a deep breath. 

“You gotta help me figure out how to get a date, Buddy. I swear. There’s a steak in it for you... I’m starting to feel like a dirty old man pining after her every day.”

The dog sneezed. A few times. And when he stopped, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Bruce could swear the dog was laughing at him.


	2. Chapter 2

The beeping of machines and Traeger’s occasional soft whines were the only sounds in medical. Dr. Cho had done a great job. But, you were human, and it was going to take a long time for your wounds to heal.

And Bruce couldn’t bring himself to leave. He just couldn’t. He wanted you to open your eyes and smile up at him. Tease him about something. Anything. Tell him you were madly in love with him and you wanted to get married and live in Manhattan or something... Okay. That last one was improbable, but. It was what he thought about when he couldn’t sleep. It was his happy place. The thought he wrapped around himself like a weighted blanket to lull himself into a state of calm.

He wasn’t sure how it started. Bruce thought that maybe it was just after a bad day. Or perhaps after you’d brought him a coffee or something and stopped to chat. It didn’t really matter. All he knows is that, when he can’t sleep, he thinks of you. 

Not sexual thoughts... not always. Just. Just little daydreams. Planning first dates, wondering what it would be like to wake up to you, hair all a mess, and sleepy smiles. He wants that. He wants you, pure and simple. No matter how many times he tries to tell himself that, it’s just because,,, he sees you every day. Or just because you have so much in common. It’s you. It’s always you that he’s drawn back to late at night. 

Even now, sitting next to your bed, he can’t keep his mind from wandering. And that makes him smile a little. He runs his thumb over the back of your hand before kissing it gently. “You scared us,” he scolded quietly. “Ace, the lab’s too quiet without you,” he said softly, “And Tony thinks he almost got you killed.”

Bruce kisses your hand again and tucks the blanket closer to you. He knows this coma is medically induced. And you’re healing. And you’ll be okay. But you look small and fragile. It scares him. He’s used to you being just a bundle of excitement. Bouncing around the lab. And around the tower. The hospital gown in it’ minty green looks wrong on you. He’s used to navy coveralls and denim overalls. Quirky t-shirts. Glittery eyeshadow. It makes him happy, seeing all of that. This is just wrong. The color is wrong. Your hair is down, tangled, and around your face is awry. Bruce knows, after almost two years working across the hall from you, that you have long hair. But not because he’s ever seen it down. Just because he reckons that buns that size mean very long or very thick hair. And he likes seeing it down... But not like this.

“It was touch and go for a minute, Ace,” he said quietly. “But, Dr. Cho took good care of you, sweetheart. They just knocked you out to help keep your healing.”

He wishes you’d open your eyes and look up at him, but he knows you won’t. Not until they wake you up. 

When the doors slide open, he lets go of your hand. Quickly. Like he’d been shocked. Or was feeling guilty. But when it’s just Tony, he exhales. Tony knew. Tony had been pressing him to just make a move for ages. 

“How is she?” Tony asked, taking the chair on the other side of the bed. 

“Steady,” Bruce said, gesturing vaguely towards the monitors, “Helen did good work.”

Tony glanced up. He’d been in medical enough times and seen enough medical shows to kinda know what he was looking at. And “Steady” was good. And accurate. Tony stretched lazily and folded his hands across his stomach, nodding towards where Bruce had retaken your hand. 

“You know,” Tony drawled, “While she’s unconscious isn’t really the best time to make your move.”

Bruce felt his cheeks color, and he squeezed your hand gently, “I don’t know if she can hear me, but... I just didn’t want her to be lonely.”

The other man nodded. He doesn’t point out that Traeger is here. And that Traeger is your constant companion. A giant, shaggy shadow. Because he’d come down here for the same reason. To make sure that you were doing okay. 

“So when are you gonna make a move,” Tony pressed, half teasing. 

Bruce made a soft choking sound, and Tony grinned, “C’mon Brucie bear,” he said, “You’ll make cute babies.”

“She doesn’t want kids,” Bruce said, looking towards the monitors. Anything to keep from looking at Tony, “And I don’t think I do either.”

Tony waited for elaboration. He wanted to know how Bruce knew that. But, Bruce just looked down at the hand he was holding. The little scars and calluses. Because Bruce remembered the conversation. You’d been a little drunk and lying outside. On the roof, to be exact. Watching the stars with Traeger and explaining how constellations got their names. Bruce had come out for fresh air. To breathe for just a second. And Bruce had almost walked back downstairs. He didn’t want to intrude. But when your phone rang? He stayed. 

He knew your dad’s ringtone when he heard it. It sounded like an air raid siren for a reason. So he stayed. Edging just a little closer, into your line of sight. He’d heard these phone calls before. He wanted money. Or food. Or a place to stay. Or maybe all of it at once. It upset you. And if he was honest, it upset him too. 

He hated knowing that it didn’t matter that you routinely put your life on the line for humanity. All you were to him was a way to get money. Bruce tried not to listen in. 

But he could hear how flat your voice was, even if he wasn’t paying attention to the words. It felt unnatural, that toneless voice. But by the time you hung up the phone and you were sobbing on his shoulder, Bruce had the whole story. The trauma. The pain. 

He knew. He knew and he couldn’t fault your logic. 

Tony didn’t need to know the why though. If he wanted to know why he could ask you himself. Just as soon as you were awake.


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce looked up from his work table and across the way. It was still too quiet in the lab. And he hated it. 

You were only allowed to actually do things a few hours at a time and the rest of your day involved a lot of physical therapy. Recovering, it seemed, was harder work than actually working. At least if how tired you were was anything to go by. And that worried him. It worried him a lot more than he dared tell anyone.

But, he was glad you were awake. Awake and alive. And that, even if fieldwork was beyond you for now, you were staying on. Working on projects. In the wee small hours of the morning, Bruce had thought about what would happen if you left. What your going home could mean. Not just for the fantasy of a relationship he harbored in his head, but for you. For your physical and mental health. 

Bruce was relieved when word filtered down that you were staying. And when he saw you make your slow, painful way into the lab; one arm looped through Tony’s for support, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t keep away, even if he said he would. He’d wanted to avoid accidentally pressuring you into being in a relationship with him. One you might not want to be in once you were healed completely. 

He let himself into your workshop and accepted the hug and the kiss on the cheek that you gave him, “Thank you for taking care of Traeger,” you tell him. 

Bruce smiled, cradling your cheek in his hand, “Anytime, Ace,” he said softly. And that brief moment, you leaning into the touch, was indelibly printed on his memory. It had made his knees go to jello. 

“I think I owe you some dinner at least,” you say smiling when you pull away. 

Bruce felt his face heat. He didn’t know what to say. However much he desperately wanted to go with you. He really, really liked the idea of a nice dinner with you. Talking about science and work. Talking some affectionate shit about Tony. “I- I’d like that,” he said finally, “What did you have in mind?”

“We could order some pizza and get a six pack,” you tell him, “Sit on the roof?”

Bruce smiled, “That sounds good,” he said. He couldn’t breathe right. It felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. And when you smiled up at him, Bruce felt the butterflies in his stomach take wing. 

Tony, for once, didn’t comment on anything. He was too busy keeping a running commentary of ways that he’d altered your workshop to make it easier for you to work from a chair. Lower tables, lower cabinets, and a robot on loan to help with the lifting and welding. At least until you were recovered and could go back to doing it all yourself again.

“It’s not like I did anything cool or anything,” Tony cut in, pouting when he noticed your attention was distracted. 

You half turn to look at him and smile, sinking slowly into the chair Bruce was now holding for you. “He took care of my dog,” you protest. 

Tony rolled his eyes, “We all took care of that monster.”

You gasp, mock offended and reach over to cover Traeger’s ears, “He’s not a monster. He’s just a big boy. You’re gonna hurt his feelings.” Traeger, meanwhile, was unphased and wiggled his head to get you to scratch his ears.

You obliged and Tony smiled a little, happy to have you back in the lab. Even under altered conditions. Still, he doesn’t want you to stay here too long. You need rest and he can tell you’re starting to get tired. Your energy levels are starting to flag. 

Still, he rolls his eyes again and sighs, “We better get you back upstairs before you turn into a pumpkin,” he tells you. 

You glance towards your work table, the plans you’d started and sigh.

“You were shot four times,” Bruce said quietly, “Even with Dr. Cho’s innovations, it’s going to take you some time to heal.”

“The bastards,” you grouse. 

That makes Bruce snort. He doesn’t know why. They’d shot you. You could have died. But you just sounded so... Mildly irritated about it. 

“I’d say you got them back,” Tony said, “How did you manage that many molotov cocktails?”

“Desperation,” you answer, “And they had cases of booze stacked fucking everywhere.”

“Fair enough,” Tony said, “All I know is Romanoff was impressed.”

“I’d hope so,” you say grinning, “I beat her record.”

Bruce smiles and watches as Tony helps you out of the lab. Letting you lean on him for support. Bruce has a vague sense that he should have run after you. That he should have offered to help you to your room. But, he shook his head, dismissing that notion. You’d already agreed to dinner and he didn’t think he could trust himself not to break down and tell you he loved you right there. Not if he was holding you to him. 

_______

Traeger barks on the other side of the door and Bruce smile a little. Some guard dog he is. He’d lick an intruder to death.

The door swings open and Brice finds himself with massive shaggy paws on his shoulders and a tongue sliming his glasses. It makes him laugh even as he cringes. “Hey, Buddy,” he laughed, shoving the dog off affectionately to pat him more comfortably. 

He looks up from giving Traeger his pats to see you standing in the doorway, smiling a little. “I hope you don’t mind if I changed out dinner plans a little,” you say, helping him back onto his feet. 

“What’d you order?” he asked, not remotely bothered. As long as you were there and he got to help you eat it, he wasn’t complaining. You were wearing cute little overalls and a long sleeve t-shirt. It’s cute. And even covered neck to feet, there’s a hint of plush curves that make his mouth go dry if he thinks about it too hard. 

“Chinese,” you tell him, patting Trager and picking up a bag of delivery.

“That sounds like heaven,” Bruce said smiling, offering you an arm to take to walk. 

You take it and Bruce adjusts his grip gently. He hadn’t realized until he felt how much you had to lean on him that he might not, at least as him self, be strong enough to help you on to the roof. “It’s probably cold tonight up on the roof,” he mused.

“Yeah,” you say, taking a deep breath. 

“How about we just sit on your couch? I can sneak Traeger pieces of Chicken easier from there anyway.”

“That- that would probably be a lot more comfortable,” You say, letting him steer you back into your room.

Bruce nods, “How does your back feel?”

“It really hurts,” you admit, staggering to the couch to put the bag on the table.

“Well,” he mused, setting out the meal for you while you try and get comfortable, “They had to rebuild part of your spine, I’d imagine part of it is just... Growing pains.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I just wish it would hurry up.”


End file.
